In October of 2024, I got a tattoo of a butterfly on my left foot — a Blue Morpho, its wings stretched wide in brilliant shades of blue. It’s a reminder of resilience, beauty, and transformation. But here’s the thing: Blue Morphos, like all butterflies, aren’t born this way.
They go through stages. Egg —> Caterpillar —> Chrysalis. Finally, the winged adult. At each stage, they are exactly what they need to be, but when they outgrow it, they transform. Their beauty isn’t instant, it’s earned. Transformation isn’t easy.
My favorite part of the Blue Morpho is its vibrant beauty. But what many don’t realize is that its dazzling blue isn’t from pigment at all, it’s created by light scattering across millions of tiny scales. Look closer, and the underside of its wings reveals eyespots, nature’s design for protection, camouflage, and survival. A perfect example of strength and fragility coexisting.
I see so much of my sobriety in that.
I began my sobriety journey in late 2021. Like most of us, it hasn’t been a straight line. I’ve had slips here and there, what I like to call data points, but I have spent the majority of the time sober, and in that space I’ve grown more emotionally and spiritually than I ever did in my twenties.
That’s why the chrysalis stage resonates most with me. When I was in early sobriety, after a slip, or when I feel vulnerable, I retreat. I pull inward. I wrap myself in the comfort of home, family, routines. What I consider “my safe space.”
A butterfly can’t go back into its chrysalis, but I can. And sometimes I need to. Not to hide forever, but to gather strength. To rest. To remember who I want to be before I step back into the world with wings open again.
This truth came alive for me recently on a family trip. This past weekend my husband and I took our girls to Hershey, Pennsylvania, to visit a dear friend. We packed our days full — Hershey Park, the Hersey museum, delicious dinners, mining for gems, wandering gardens, even a farm.
But my favorite moment came in the Butterfly Atrium at the Hershey Hotel. I could have spent hours there, surrounded by wings in every color, watching my daughters’ faces light up in pure wonder. The smiles, the giggles, the little hands reaching out in awe, it was magic.
Here’s the difference: if this trip had happened before 2021, it would have been chaotic, centered around drinking. Late nights, too much money spent on alcohol, missed mornings, half-present conversations. We wouldn’t have done half the things we did.
This time, drinking wasn’t even an option in my mind. Others had their cocktails, beer, and wine, but it didn’t phase me. I had my sparkling water with a splash of pineapple and lime and soaked in the laughter and conversations at the dinner table. I noticed the funny things my girls say and do in restaurants (they love restaurants). I was fully there.
And that presence, those little moments, are the wings I’ve grown in sobriety.
Butterflies remind me that transformation is not a one-time event. It’s a process of becoming, over and over again. Their wings are made strong because of the struggle to break free from the chrysalis. My sobriety works the same way.
Some days I soar. Some days I retreat. Both are okay. Each time I return, I emerge a little stronger, a little braver, a little more open.
So if you’re on this path, be patient with yourself. Retreat if you need to. Protect your peace. Transformation takes time, but your wings are worth the wait.
Transformation isn’t instant, it’s built in stages.
Retreating isn’t weakness, it’s necessary preparation.
Presence makes ordinary moments magical.
Slips aren’t failures, they ate data points, reminders that growth is ongoing.
Think of a time when you felt yourself in a “chrysalis stage” — pulling back, resting, or regrouping.
What did you learn in that stage?
How did it prepare you for the next version of yourself?
When you think about emerging from a hard season, what does it look like to spread your wings?
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